


Notice

by Madfordinos



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dyslexia, M/M, Miya has Dyslexia, Oblivious, Pining Miya Atsumu, Pining Sakusa Kiyoomi, Pro Volleyball Player Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sakusa Kiyoomi is Bad at Feelings, So do I, Supportive Miya Osamu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28558275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madfordinos/pseuds/Madfordinos
Summary: The first time it happened Sakusa hadn't really noticed.“Oi” Miyas voice was loud and grating, easily heard over the other loud and grating voices in the changing rooms “how do you spell imbecil?”Sakusa carried on towelling off, ignoring the question thrown out to the room, huffing in amusement at the irony of Miya not being able to spell the word.Sakusa noticing Dyslexic Miya
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 21
Kudos: 763
Collections: ~SakuAtsu~





	Notice

**Author's Note:**

> Hi !!!!
> 
> I have dyslexia and this is based on this! A lot of what Miya feels/experiences are very familiar so i hope you like it.
> 
> ~(˘▾˘~) However, ironically enough since I am dyslexic it means that sometimes I've used the wrong words, please tell me if anything needs correcting :) (~˘▾˘)~

The first time it happened Sakusa hadn't really noticed. 

“Oi” Miyas voice was loud and grating, easily heard over the other loud and grating voices in the changing rooms “how do you spell imbecil?” 

Sakusa carried on towelling off, ignoring the question thrown out to the room, huffing in amusement at the irony of Miya not being able to spell the word. 

“Imbecil?”Inunaki stopped midway through getting changed, throwing a look of disbelief towards Miya 

“Ya samus bein’ a dick” He tightened his grip on his phone, his pitch lowering as if nervous or embarrassed. Sakusa quickly shook that thought away, Miya doesn’t know the meaning of embarrassment. 

“i think the only imbecil here is you Atsumu” Snorts echoed around the changing room, Inunakis comment even causing a small grin on Sakusas face. 

Miyas face flushed, quickly standing up despite only being covered in a too small, white towel “Oi yer wan’ ago!” 

Meian quickly intervened, pushing the fake blond back on the wooden bench, stopping his screeching “I-m-b-e-c-I-l" 

Miya huffed but quickly settled, bringing his phone back up to his face and typing rapidly “thanks Meian-san" 

The captain paused as he walked back to his area of the bench “but really Miya?” 

Laughter once again echoed around the changing room, Bokuto being the loudest and Hinata mostly smile looking unsure if he should laugh. 

Sakusa rolled his eyes at Hinata uneasy, he should know by now Miyas a attention grabber even if said attention isn’t positive. This was just another one of his ploys. 

He walked out, putting his mask on, he didn’t let himself think on why Miya shoulders dropped, his eyes diming despite his screeching yells not faulting. 

“Captian this spelt right, right?” 

“uh what's it meant to spell?” 

“Wednesday” 

“ya that’s not it” 

“oh” 

“You can’t spell Wednesday ‘tsumu-tsumu!” 

“shut it Bo-kun!” 

“Miya why does that say slimer” 

“What? Nah it says similar Omi-Omi” 

“it says slimer, despite your best efforts to make it impossible to read” 

“damn” 

“you're an idiot Miya” 

“i knew you were stupid Atsumu ,but really?” 

“shut it Inunaki!” 

“i would if I could read your schedule, did you even try to make this neat? You could have at least put a bit of effort in to make sure it was spelt right” 

“....” 

They were at onigiri Miya, Osamu letting in the team of athletes with a role of eyes at seeing them crowed around the closed door, Atsumu at the front grinning at his brother. 

Apart from the loud conversations from the black jackals the Restuarant was quiet, Osamu having sent the other workers home, Atsumu being the kind loving brother he is was helping make the onigiri. With the speed Bokuto and Hinata were eating them they would be there all night, Atsumu couldn’t stop the groan at the thought. 

“Oi” Samus voice interrupted his thoughts, nodding to the ugly looking onigiri being formed. Seeing Sakusa moving as if to get up, he slipped umeboshi into the rice ball that was meant to look like a triangle. 

He threw his brother a glare, communicating that he would stop if the bulling continued “shu’d up” 

Sakusa paused at the counter before relaxing at the sight of plastic gloves covering Atsumu’s hands. He threw a teasing grin at his prickly teammate, quickly depositing the onigiri onto the plate. 

Sakuas voice was flat and void of emotion “thank you” 

“aw Omi-kun yer so nice” Atsumu cooed, snickering at the scowl that overtook Sakusa uncovered face. 

“I was talking to your brother” with that he turned back to the table, holding the plate. 

Atsumu pouted, at seeing the grin over taking Osaums face he pointed at his twin “Shut it” 

“i did’n say nothin’” 

“i should’ve eaten’ yer in the womb” 

“Out of all yer teammates to crush on you decided Sakusa-san, aiming high are we?" 

“Shut it!” 

Osamus laughed at his brother's misfortune, a couple of minutes going by, before frowning at the ingredients that littered across the counters “Yer written what ingredients we’r usin’?” 

“Nah, I'll do it now” 

He slipped the gloves off, lobbing them into the bin before walking to the storeroom. Seeing the clipboard hanging off the door he picked it up, ignoring the slight dread increasing in his chest, looking around for the countless pens scatted about the kitchen. 

Black pen acquired, he looked down at the paper easily writing ‘rice’ along with the number of small bags he’d bring out at the start of the night. Seaweed and tuna easily followed, his handwriting probably ineligible to any others except his brother, he sighed trying to correct it, so it was actually readable. 

His misspelling of umeboshi stared back at him, looking nothing like it meant to be spelt. 

He crossed it out and tried again, it looked right, yet at the same time he knew it was wrong, but he didn’t know how. Familiar anxiety made him scrunch his eyes, blinking rapidly as if the correct letters would just appear on the paper, at it not magically changing he groaned, frustration creeping in. 

Familiar footsteps came from behind him. 

“Hey” Osamus voice was softer than normal, Atsumu didn’t want to turn to see the slight guilt at not thinking about his brother's inability to spell. 

“Hey” 

Osamu moved forward, taking the clipboard with one hand and the pen with the other, "sorry” 

“nah don’t worry bout it” Atsumu rolled his head forward, eyeing his brother fixing his spelling with much neater writing, something that had happened since Atsumu first picked up a pen, chuckling bitterly at himself “Still can’t spell, even at 24” 

“oi, don’t talk bout yer self like that” His brothers head snapped up, eyes narrowing, at Atsumus lack of movement he nudged him with the pen “’Tsumu I'm bein’ serious, it ain’ yer fault. Yer dyslexic, it’s not like ya can control it” 

Atsumu rolled his eyes, how often has that been used as an excuse, by both himself and others. If honest he could admit that sometimes he regretted getting diagnosed, who knew that 7 year old little Atsumu would one day despise getting the reason why his hand seemed to stutter over the paper, creating clumsy lines and repeated words that made no sense to anyone but him. The words looking correct and right just for someone, usually his brother, to tell him he's missing a letter, or it doesn’t look anything like the actual word. 

At 24 he had come to despise the sentence “I'm dyslexic”, just to see others eyes either soften in pity or narrow in annoyance at “another athlete not wanting to put effort in” usually followed by a snide “have you ever got an actually diagnose?”. 

His heart seemed to twist at remembering the recent jabs his teammates had been taking at him, not a day had gone by without him regretting for help in insulting his brother over text. 

He was in genral a jerk, he could admit that, sometimes taking his own teasing too far, but even so if it truly bothered them he stopped, or at least changed his material. 

Since then however, It seemed to open the door to restless teasing about his inability to spell and if not that then his scribble like handwriting, with Bokuto and Inunaki being the main perpetrators to start the fun game of ‘can you spell ….’. Though Bokuto mostly did it out of curiosity with even Hinata joining in. The grins and laughter caused by the result, even if he refused to answer, made him feel like shit basically. He didn’t dare poke the reason as to why whenever Sakusa joined in, a teasingly cruel grin at the corner of his mouth, eyes alight in amusement, it hurt ever so slightly more than the others. 

Staring at the tiled walls of his brothers shop, water brimming in the corner of his eyes, he decided that maybe he was more hurt over it then he originally thought. The idea that maybe they viewed him as pure stupid wrapped up in a slice of idiot, hurt more than it should. After all he knew if he told them of his situation they would stop. 

Would probably stop, he clinged to the thought, not wanting to think on his captain's huffs of laughter or the way Bokutos eyes scrunched in amusement, and Hinatas giggles, two of the kindest people he knows finding humour in his struggles. Hell, Atsumu even caught the coach snickering once. 

The thought of telling them and nothing changing, the idea that they think its an excuse to be stupid, would probably cause him to cry. 

“look at me” a hand on his shoulder shook him, Osamu now in front of him, concerned at the sign of tears in his twin's eyes “yer alright ‘tsumu” 

“yea” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands “yer, ok” 

“Has something happened?” to any other Osamu looked the same, facial expression unchanging, yet to the Atsumu, his lifelong companion, he knew the conversation could very easily derail. 

He had yet to forget the feeling of shock and disbelief at seeing his normally calm and unchanging twin shouting at Suna, who at the time had only known them for a couple months, after a couple of insults had went too far causing the not yet blond to shrink in his seat. Osamu had dragged Atsumu away, refusing to talk to the middle blocker till he apologised a week later, despite Atsumu more or less forgiving him straight away. 

“No” 

“ ‘sumu” Osamus voice hardened, both hands now on his brother, he shook him slightly “Talk to me” 

“I'm fine yer scrub” he huffed, pushing slightly, wanting the conversation to end. 

“ ‘tsumu, whats wrong?” Osamu grinned slightly, the mirrored face getting softer, deciding a different approach was needed “I'm yer other half, who better to tell?” 

Atsumu couldn’t stop the slight grin at the words, a reminder of their promise to always be there for the other created young. 

“ ‘samu its nothin’, I promise” he looked into his brothers, trying to converse he really didn’t want to speak about it. 

“fine” osamu sighed, leaning back, letting his hands drop “move yur ass, yer ‘mates ain’t finished yet” He kicked him slightly, dodging the attempted revenge with ease, hopefully he could dodge the integration that would most likely happen later. 

“ ‘samu” Atsumu whinnied, it echoed around the room, breaking whatever tension remained. 

“shut yer whining and ill give ya a pudding when we get to mine” 

“I'm coming to yers?” 

“Ya I still haven't crushed yer ass on rainbow road yet” 

“and you never will you scrub” 

Atsumu snicked, following his brother and dodging the pen that was flung towards him. 

Him and Omi-kun where the only ones left in the changing room, Atsumu only half changed, staring at his phone in rising frustration. He looked at the search bar, breathing deep before trying again. 

Incorrect suggestions came back, neither one the name of the sports shop Atsumu had heard about. 

He screeched, done with it all, raising his arm to throw the delicate iPhone across the unforgiving tiled floor. 

A cold hand, larger than his own, caught his wrist. Omi-kun stared back at him, expression blank except for a single raised eyebrow. 

Atsumu stared back, snapping out “What!” 

“Don’t act like a child Miya” 

His voice was steady and calm, 

Atsumu decided that pissed him off. 

“Fuck off Sakusa” he held eye contact, almost begging him to take the bait, to give him a reason to be angry, a real reason. 

Sakusa hand slid up his arm, causing Atsumu to jolt back, now aware that he was actually being touched by the germophobe, slipping the source of his anger out of his tight grip. 

He stared down at it, unphased “What are you trying to spell?” 

Atsumu mumbled the shops name, looking at his shoes and trying to ignore the feeling of embarrassment the grew in his chest. He avoided looking at Sakusa, the sound of tapping easily reaching him, of all the people to have a meltdown in front of, why him?? 

“Here” He passed the rose-gold phone back, taking out a wipe to disinfect his hands. 

Atsumu glared at the boring green logo, the source of his anguish, Omi-kun was at the door when he looked back up. 

“Thanks Omi” 

Sakusa paused at the door, looking at Atsumus still frame, an unclear emotion on his face “Don't mention it” 

He walked out, broad figure covered in black, and Atsumu wanted to bang his head against the wall, emotions (good emotions, positive even) swirling in his chest. 

Sakusa tugged at his mask, irritation rising on his walk home, why couldn’t he stop thinking about one of the most annoying people he’d ever met?. 

Sakusa was a straight forward man, honest to the point of cruelty, which was why when he’d figured out he had a small, insignificant, crush on the team's setter, he’d sighed and then proceeded to ignore it. 

Exposure would solve the problem. 

Except it didn’t work, because yes, Atsumus a true and utter asshole, demanding the best from everyone on the court, insults flung at those he deemed unworthy, displaying an impossible level of arrogancy. 

Yet he backed it up, being the second-best setter in the whole of Japan, in constant battle with Kageyama, demanding the best because he was the best. 

Sakusa couldn’t fault that, especially since he was more or less the same, just less loud, therefore receiving less scrutiny. 

His scowl deepened, thoughts distracted again; he would have thought it was just another ploy for attention except they were the only ones left, Sakusa was always the last one out with Miya heading out with one of the others. 

Besides Miya hadn't looked at Sakusa once, instead rapidly typing, mouth moving as if sounding the words out. He’d watched as the taps got harder, shoulders coiling up, an ugly shade of red covering his face. 

Sakusa hadn’t meant to intervein, not really, planning on telling him to calm down, except Miyas arm raised, defined muscles tensing. He’d grabbed it without thinking, knowing that Miya would have regretted it after. 

Why he cared about his feelings he didn’t know, he just didn’t want to listen to the whining. Ya that was why, had to be. 

He'd spelt the shop for him, noticing that a 24-year-old man should have been able to spell it, even if an athlete with only volleyballs for brains. 

Sakusa couldn’t stop the feeling that he was missing something, that there was more to it than Miya wanting attention or just not wanting to put the effort in. 

He shook his head, displacing the thoughts, if Miya had an actual problem, he would have told the team by now, Sakusa was certain. 

Mask put back into the correct place, he carried on his walk, ignoring the memories of Atsumu sitting on the bench, curled over, the look sad-frustration-anger making its ways onto the fake-blonds face. 

It was nothing, just a lack of effort. 

It all came to a revile even Atsumu couldn’t predict. 

The interviewer was short and on the chubby side, her blond hair was dyed similar to his own and thus a friendship was quickly formed even before the cameras turned on. In another time Atsumu would have been flirting with her, however the thoughts of the surly dark-haired spiker put a stop to that. This didn’t stop the almost instinct like flattering that flittered out of his mouth, causing groans from his teammates at the corny and pun-like complements. 

“got to say, I love yer hair chib-chan" 

She laughed at the name “not everyone can be a giant like you lot” 

“Nah yer just tiny Niko-chan, ya can’t be more than 5’0” he leaned forward to grin widely at the interviewer, ignoring the glare he could feel from Sakusa. 

“4’10 actual but thank you, got to say however I’m loving the colour of your hair” Niko leaned forward as well, smiling just as wide, as if sharing a secret. 

“see told ya yer tiny” he leaned back triumphantly “and thank ya, those who say it don’t look good are filthy liars” Atsumu ran his hand threw his hair, throwing a wink at her. 

He ignored the moaning from his teammates, the “then apparently we're all lying” from Inunaki and the deepening scowl from Sakusa. 

“use blonds got to stick together” Her voice was teasing, further cementing Atsumus decision to get her number after, he could tell she would be fun to hang out with. 

The interview carried on, questions directed towards all of them, mostly genral; what got you into volleyball, was there ever a moment you thought of quitting, was there anyone who inspired you, and so on. 

Niko clapped her hands “now we're done with the questions, it's time for a game.” 

Hinata leaned forward, nearly rocking out his chair only saved by Barnes pulling him back, ‘dad reflexes’ Atsumu thought. 

“a game?” excitement was clear in his chirp. 

“yes, I'm going to give you all white boards and ask you questions. The aim of the game is to write the same answers” Niko smiled, handing out white boards. 

Atsumu accepted the clean board, dread already filling his chest, he saw embarrassment in his near future. 

He ignored the snickers and stares from his teammates, Inunaki already smirking. Atsumu straightened up, twirling the black pen in one hand, it’d be fine, he can ignore them. They were on tv after all, they might not even say anything. 

“right first question” Niko wiggled in her chair, picking up cards from small table next to her “who is the funniest?” 

Atsumu looked down, biting in lip before quickly writing his answer 

“ready, 3...2...1!” 

8 boards reflected the same answer, with the exception of Bokutos saying ‘me’ somehow looking chaotic yet neat at the same time. 

Niko laughed leaning back “on your first try as well!” 

“Bokuto-san constantly telling jokes!” Hinata held his board higher, as if proof. 

“though they are usually really corny” Meian admitted 

Bokuto gasped, throwing a betrayed look at the captain “my jokes aren't corny!” 

Inunaki huffed “they kinda are Bokuto” 

The game carried on, simple questions with simple answers. 

Atsumu smiled, laughing along with the rest of the team. He could do this, everything was going to be fine. 

He spoke too soon 

“right one of the last questions” Niko squinted at her card “what's something that fans most likely don’t know about Sakusa-san?” 

Everyone including Atsumu paused, heads swinging to each other then to the man in question. 

Remembering Omi-kuns favourite onigiri, he smiled starting to write then pausing. He bit his lip, familiar anxiety making its self-known, he’d been alright up until this point, guessing or the word being something easy. He pushed the silly thought of this word haunting him away. 

He looked down the line of chairs, ignoring Sakusas heavy gaze next to him, realizing his time was up he scribbled his best guess on the board. 

Inunaki of course, was the first to see Atsumus answer “Atsumu what the hell!” he laughed, successfully getting the attention of the rest of the team, Atsumu shrunk in his chair “what's that meant to say?” 

Cheeks red, he mumbled “umeboshi” 

“umeboshi?” 

Atsumu turned to Omi-kun, tilting his head “yea its yer favourite, yer like it in everythin’.” 

“Miya-kun that looks nothing like umeboshi” he swung his head to Meian, pouting, unknowingly missing the beginnings of a flush on Sakusas face. 

“the word doesn’t sound anything like its spelt!” he was whining, trying to distract and move the conversation on 

Inunaki smirked, mouth opening to probably insult him, Bokutos and Hinata giggles already starting, just to be interrupted 

“oh, Miya-san do you have dyslexia?” 

The room paused, confused. Atsumu looked to Niko, wide eyed, small smile unsure 

“Uhm” he opened his mouth, then closed it, not knowing how to respond to such a causally asked question. 

“Sorry! You don’t have to answer, I just noticed you said you have trouble with spelling words that don’t sound like their written” she paused, face red, quickly turning her notes around “well that and your handwriting!” 

Atsumu felt the pressure in his chest lift, staring at the written words, just as messy (if not more), realising she's the same, that she understands. 

It's not like he was purposely hiding it after all. The anxious embarrassment welling up in his chest disagreed, for a split-second he thought about lying. 

“ya actually” he leaned back, ignoring the hot stares he could feel, feeling compelled he carried on “I got diagnosed way back, when I was 7” 

He heard a dramatic gasp, most likely from Hinata, he could practically feel Omi-kun tensing up next to him 

“Ooh early” she laughed little “got mine in middle school, along with dyscalculia and dyspraxia” 

She was either oblivious to the rising tension or was ignoring it, Atsumu sat up straight, he could do that. 

“damn, yer got the ‘hole set” he smiled, he had to get her number, “I got dyspraxia as’ well, but it mostly effected my hand to eye coordination which was annyoin’ as hell when me and my brother first started volleyball but practice makes perfect as’ they say” 

“that's interesting, you don’t get a lot of athletes with dyspraxia, I mean I'm constantly losing my balance even when standing still” her laugh was high pitched, he could respect the decision to find humour in it, gods knows he struggles to do that 

“How's your reading?” she was obviously interested, Atsumu tried not think on the silence of the team, not daring to look 

“crappyer than most but I get by” he waved his board around “its spelling that gets me” 

Niko smiled brightly, turning back to the team “right, sorry for getting of track, unfortunately that brings an end to the interview...” 

Atsumu burrowed down into his jacket, pointily ignoring everyone to the best of his ability. 

The bus ride back was silent and awkward, Atsumu sat alone, brushing off Bokotus and Hinata. He could hear them wisping at the front, he put in his earphones, texting ‘samu that he was coming over. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Sakusa wanted to smack Miya, then maybe himself. Looking around at the shocked team, he wanted to smack them as well. 

The want increased as Inunakis face, the main perpetrator, got guiltier. 

Atsumu smiled at Niko-kun, yet Sakusa could tell it was dimmer than normal, unsure and slightly embarrassed. His face still slightly pink, lips bitten to a rosy red. 

Dyslexia 

A learning disorder that effected the process of language in the brain, that was a lifelong condition that Miya lived with, and could not control. 

He could relate to that, his mind never letting him forget about the bacteria cells that floated everywhere and anywhere. The thoughts only dimming in safe spaces such as his apartment, or when with people he felt safe with such as his cousin. The idea that he had been unknowingly insulting Atsumu, truly insulting him, making him feel the frustration he felt as a teen, people not understanding he couldn’t control it. 

Unwelcome memorises slammed into his mind, the countless times all of them, including Hinata and the captain, had teased Miya. 

He could admit that even he thought they might have pushed the boundaries, pushing too far, even more so after the episode in the locker room, before now. 

However, he’d ignored it because Atsumu hadn’t said anything, a mistake he could now see, clear and blinding. 

He’d ignored the way Atsumu got quiet, trying to take up less space after certain comments. 

The way he’d shuffle his feet whenever the coach asked him to correct the physical forms they had to fill out once a week, staring at the paper in the corner of the gym, pen going back and forth. 

Regret pooled into his chest, he could feel his hands protesting with how tight he’d scrunched them up, looking at the chatting fake-blond, he promised to make it up somehow. 

He ignored the traitorous thoughts, wisping how the emotions seemed to powerful, too much, for just a teammate. 

On the bus back his mind unwillingly reminded him that Miya knew his favourite food. 

Atsumu was up as soon as the bus stopped, flinging his bag on his shoulder and he was off. 

“Miya-Kun” 

He stopped automatically, body reacting to the stern voice of his captain before his mind. He turned slowly, looking longingly in the direction of the train station, it came in 15 minutes with the next one not being for an hour. He didn’t fancy arriving at ‘samus at midnight, the bitchin would be unbearably. 

“yes capt’an” his smile was as fake as they come, trying not to beg with his eyes for freedom. 

“we need to talk”. 

“what!? No we don’t, yer fine, I'm fine, we’r all fine” Atsumu tried to ignore the way the team, now having all got off the bus, surrounded him in a lose semi-circle. 

“Atsumu-san please” Hinatas voice was sad and pleading, Atsumu hated it honestly. 

“there are no excuses, I apologies”. 

Atsumu blinked, wide eyes looking at Inunakis bowed figure. Before he could say anything the rest of the team followed, repeating the formal apology, even Tomas who was barley involved with the teasing at all (mostly due to him speaking little Japanese). 

He was surrounded by the tops of heads, he was pretty sure could hear sniffling from Hinata or Bokuto, his eyes lingered on Sakusa a split second more. The man was stood stock still at a perfect angle, yet uncharacteristic regret and remorse seemed to radiate off him. 

“it's fine, it's not a big deal!” his voice was awkward to himself, making him flinch, at the lack of movement, he begged “please stand up, yer making me nervous” 

“no Miya-san it is, no amount of apologising is going to make it better, but we want you to know we regret our actions and it will never happen again” The captains voice was might as well have been steel 

The team slowly started to straighten up, all looking ashamed, it was making Atsumu feel weird and he didn’t like it. 

“Nah look I probably should’ve told yer” running his hand though his hair, he sighed “its not yer fault, I know it was just in fun” 

“Atsumu” Inunaki stepped forward and Atsumu couldn’t stop himself from biting his lip, “look I thought you was just being lazy or just didn’t care. I see now how arrogant I was being by assuming that off you, I should have known, anyone with eyes can see that you never put anything but your best into your actions, both on the court and off. I Should have used my brain instead of insulting yours” 

Inunaki was shuffling on one spot, nervous and unsure, Atsumu had never seen the libro like this. He didn’t like it. 

“I’m going to be honest with yer” He took a deep breath “ya what you were saying was slightly hurtful, slightly but I knew ya did’n mean anythin’ by it. I’ve heard worse and I can defiantly take yer teasing” 

He smiled at them, trying to convey he’d forgiven them the moment they had apologised, they started to relax, shoulders slumping. 

“Bo-kun, Hinata” they didn’t move, still hunched over “ ‘m bein’ serious, I forgive you, stand up already!” 

Two sets of eyes stared at him, both dimmer than normal. Bokutos hair even seemed to be floppy, that combined with Hinatas slightly teary eyes broke Atsumu. 

He held up his arms, rolling his eyes “come here” 

A wheezy was forced out of him, the two heavy bodies of professional athletes forcing him into the concrete, countless apologies spoke into his neck. 

“let me drive you” 

Atsumu turned on his heel, moving back slightly in surprise, seeing Sakusa behind him. At his questioning gaze he carried on 

“i know you're going to your brothers, the next bus isn't for an hour” he titled his head back, refering to the car park, where his black sports car resided. 

Atsumu was actually surprised Sakusa was still here, here being around the corner of the gym, having left the rest of the team to consul the still crying Hinata. He’d bowed out after seeing Bokutos eyes start to water, influenced by the small crow, Meian giving him the nod ok to leave. 

Which meant Sakusa had followed him 

“Ooh Omi-kun, following me and knowing my schedule” He winked “Am I being stalked, yer did’n give me appropriate notice” 

“in your dreams Miya” Sakusa rolled his eyes, turning before looking back, a slight curve of his lips “besides if I did that I wouldn’t be a very good stalker” 

Atsumu stood still trying to ignore his pinking checks, not used to Omi responding, only to jolt forward at the impatient eyebrow rise. 

They walked together, Omi leading the way, a comfortable silence between them. 

The drive was quiet, it having started to lightly rain as soon as they had gotten into the sterile car, looking at the shinning leather chairs, Atsumu was pretty sure a surgery could be performed in the back seats. 

He filled with the radio, switching back and forth, trying not to stare at hands bigger than his own, covered in leather driving gloves, holding the wheel in a comfortable grip. 

Few words were exchanged, mostly consisting of Omi telling him to stop playing with the radio, face like stone yet somehow still managing to be softer. 

His phone lit up, the sound of a women's heigh pitched voice shouting out ‘scrub’, breaking the silence. Atsumu smiled, laughing slightly, as he always did when Osamu texted him before looking at the message. 

To his not surprise it was once again the twin asking what happened, getting more violent with each text. Typing a quick ‘ im fine, be there soon’, he slid his phone in his pocket, turning to face the slightly judgmental look from the driver. 

“Really?” 

“what! It’s an accurate description!” 

Sakusa broke their stare off, looking back at the road, yet unmasked, Atsumu could see the slight grin. 

A couple more moments of silence before- 

“Atsumu, I'm sorry” 

Staring at the fingers tight around the wheel, he rolled his eyes “Uhg really? Even you? 

He interrupted him as he opened his mouth, giving him a gentle look, “Omi-Omi yer fine, I promise. Yer don’ have to say sorry, there's nothing to be sorry for.” 

His voice was tight, as if angry “I should have noticed. Noticed that while everyone was having fun joking around you weren't, I just brushed it off, ignored it and for that I apologise.” 

“Omi yer my friend, I don’t expect you to notice” He swallowed, unsure “its not yer responsibility” 

The car stopped, Onigiri Miya dark, only the lights of Osamu apartment above lit. It was still raining, slower, yet still manging to change the feel of the air. 

Dark eyes didn’t move off him, hands blindly turning the car off. 

“What if I want it to be?” 

Atsumu didn’t move, face turning bright in the dim light. 

“Wha-” 

Sakusa got out the car, going to the boot of the car, Atsumu more or less fell out following him. 

Sakusa cut an imposing figure in the dark, seeming to almost melt into it with wearing all black, Atsumu stood next to him, a clash of colours, sighing at the cover the also black umbrella provide ( Atsumu was starting to think Sakusa had a complex) 

They walked briskly to the back entrance, Atsumu bringing out his key, the one he stole of Osamu, hesitating at the door. 

The silence between them was now awkward with tension and he hated it. 

“How did you know?” At the confused response, he carried on “How did you know was going to ‘samus?” 

“You always go to your brothers when your upset” 

“i do?” 

A light laugh escape, Sakusa looking down at Atsumu in amusement and disbelief “you seriously didn’t notice?” 

Atsumu shook his head, honestly that was worrying, maybe he should look into a therapist? Or a doctor? 

Sakusa smoothly slid forward, holding the umbrella with one hand and placing the other on his bony hip, he leant down, placing a soft kiss with cold lips on Atsumus check. 

“don't worry, I notice everything about you” 

Atsumu walked into his brother's apartment in a daze, face and basically his whole body hot despite the weather. 

Osamu stared at him from the kitchen, at his messy hair and wobbly smile, eyes practically shinning. His face turned in disgust. 

“i should’ve eat’n ya in the womb”

**Author's Note:**

> Hoped you like it :) !!!
> 
> Kudos please, its my validation (◕‿◕✿)


End file.
